I actually have a long document on a bunch of the races that are present throughout Radix. Aside from humans, which are present everywhere but only prolific on Aracanoc, each country has its own humanoid and monstrous races. The lines between "humanoid" and "monstrous" are blurred in some cases, but the point still stands. The document I have explains many of the races already, going over their origins (or what they thought was their origins, in some cases) and statistics.
However, the point of this blog is to get me writing, not copying and pasting. Maybe I'll include that here some other time, but for right now I'll summarize what I remember and try to concentrate on what wasn't in the document.
So, there's eight main "humanoid" races within the world (Humanoid is in quotes because a few of them, such as the Aequorians, only resemble humans in the fact they have two arms and two legs). I'll list put them here in the order of most populace to least. First listed, of course, are the Humans. Physcially, they're self-explanatory. They exist on every continent, although far more prolific on Aracanoc than anywhere else. They are considered adaptable but dedicated, and are often leaders within many organizations due their singled-minded devotion to causes. Most other races, especially on Aracanoc, have a healthy respect/fear of them, and tend to alternate between trying to avoid them, and trying to ride on their coattails.
Dwarves are the most populous race in Hydranatos, as well as they are the second-most numerous of races in Declaria, marking them as the second-most common humanoid race in the world. Although they *can* live longer than humans (lasting almost two full generations), most do not, as they tend to be adventuresome and brash, dying at ages that make humans seem elderly due to the damage their body undergoes in their youth. The exceptions lie within the highest of the clergy and noble houses of Hydranatos, where the strict training helps guide most of the young away from their impulsive nature in order to be upstanding citizens.
The Beastkin are the primary race within Declaria. On the surface, they look like short humans with broad frames. Each tends to take on an aspect of the animal or creature they bond with, a rite every beastkin goes through during puberty. Those that do not find themselves stricken with a sickness that causes them to waste away as they can no longer process food they eat. They are individually strong, and their time spent developing their kinship with a creature of the forest makes them a bit feral compared to most others. There are a number of them who have migrated to Aracanoc, although those present there tend to be "darker" in nature; Beastkin native to these lands usually have to find stranger creatures than those in Declaria at the time of their bonding, and this can have strange effects on their personalities. A Beastkin's lifespan is almost completely dependent on the creature to which it bonds; unfortunately, picking and choosing a creature is no simple matter, so factors like these do not have much weight.
Pennatus, a race of thin, pale human-looking people with colorful, feathered wings, are native to the mountains of Hydranatos, although there a quite a few of them in Aracanoc as well. They are considered a "war-like" race, although they tend to think of themselves as political: battles are often run between village to settle disputes of land or kin, but these battles are normally governed by codes of honor and propriety. Most Pennatus that are present in Aracanoc were forced there at some point or another, in contrast to the Beastkin who arrived there seeking power. Some Pennatus have a natural affinity to Elemental Magic that can manifest at a young age; however, due to some strange event in their past, this is viewed as a curse. Most any village along the mountain will expel any young Pennatus showing a natural inclination towards magic, regardless of stature or family upbringing. Exiles eventually find their way to Aracanoc, for training, hope or revenge.
Defams are one of the only two races on Radix which are not "naturally occurring" within the world, although many of them would be happy to debate their origins with you. Defams are originally animal familiars to a wizard that, through some strange magics either accidental or on-purpose, were given the intelligence and arcane knowledge of their masters, and shifted to a form that resembles a sort of half-human, half-animal form. Although the most common are rats, cats and snakes, all manners of animals from all over the world have known to become Defams, some far more exotic than others. Native to Aracanoc, Defams are unable to reproduce on their own (although some have been able to create others through a similar process to how they were made), and so are not found in other parts of the world unless traveling or relocating for some purpose. Defams, being magical by nature, live enormously long: none have been known to die of old age, but most tend to be somewhat fragile by nature, betraying the appearance of immortality.
Aequorians are widely considered the "rarest" of species, although in truth there are far more of them then they let the "flat-heels" believe. Most of them live within the enormous mountain in the center of Hydranatos, although quite a few live within the city (in fact, many of them hold high positions within the clergy), and there are always at least two that live near either end of each gate that supplies water to the other continents. Aequorians are amphibious, with elongated, webbed fingers and toes spreading from short palms and heels. Their skin is oily and shines in various blues and greens that allows them to blend into the waterways where they spend much of their time, and have bulbous eyes that sit near the tops of their heads much like a frog's. Their mouths resemble a human's, although not as wide and with thicker lips and their teeth are far thicker, especially farther back. They have no nose, instead relying on large, round "scent glands" located behind the small holes they have for ears. They're a very spiritual/religious people, having a much deeper and complicated religion and, in a way, connection to the world. As such, they're one of the only races with an affinity for learning two types of magic, both Celestial and Terrestrial. The few rare Aequorians who can practice both are normally revered as the wisest among them, elevated to leaders within their communities and hidden to outsiders.
The People of the Stone are tall, lanky and have greyish but subtly-pigmented skin. They're a slow moving but outgoing folk, overly friendly to the point of seeming pushy or untrustworthy to many others. Due to their heritage, they weight almost four times that of a human of comparable size; as such, they tend to be terribly fit, despite their thin builds and apparent laziness. They're native to Declaria but can often be found in the other nations. This is mostly because, once they get settled in an area, it's not always easy to get them out again. They don't tend to pursue powerful positions or magic normally, mostly because of how much they tend to annoy their teachers with their slow movements and fast talking, but those that do learn are often amongst the best, both because of the time spent learning to gain a deeper understanding as well as the amount of time one of the People can devote to the study. The People are the longest living of the "naturally occurring" races, the oldest having lived almost a millenia before finally "returning to the stone."
The Deadless are the other race that was not "naturally occuring", although their similarities to the Defams end there. Most commonly the end result of necromancy experiments gone horribly wrong, a soul will be reinserted fully into an undead body, causing it to become reanimated but completely autonomous and aware. The problem is that the soul, normally one of someone just recently deceased at the time of the experiment, rarely is the same as originally inhabited the body, causing some very strange and problematic situations beyond the simple fact they're walking around in a corpse. These occurrences happen far too often, due to the risky nature of trying to use Necromatic Elemental energy to create a semblance of life that goes against nature, but many wizards consider the rewards great enough to accept the risk. As such, Deadless, despite their very limited lifespan within these forms (normally only a few months and rarely over a year) have a strong presence within Aracanoc, although they are almost never seen outside the city. Certain Deadless, especially ones in bodies that are normally intelligent such as mummies, run into issues trying to convince others that they're not just another Undead. Still others, like the rare few that find themselves inhabiting the body of a vampire, find it hard to convince themselves that they're not, in fact, just another member of an undead horde until something happens to make it obvious (i.e., vampire deadless must still drink blood to live, but are not harmed by sunlight).
Ok, all for now. I think I'll come back and approach some monster races later.
Precipitous Bar, part 8
Click here to start at beginning, or here to read the previous entry. Fair warning: don't start here if you want to avoid spoiling the story.
Harriet closed her door behind her and locked it. Dropping her backpack on the floor, careful despite happy she was to be rid of it, she stretched her shoulders. Despite the break during the drive home, her back still ached from carry the heavy thing for the majority of the week. Still, she got a lot done; she finally had enough material to finish her latest book.
Harriet still wasn't sure why she was so devoted to writing this book. The past few years had been kind, and she could live comfortably off the sales of her last few publications. Still, one isn't called the "premier name in entomological behavior sciences" by relying on one's previous successes. She had to keep getting out into the field.
It wasn't easy, though. Each trip out was a gentle reminder, and there was only so many times you can jump into a stream and start randomly walking downstream before your team starts to ask questions. Questions that you really do not want to answer.
Still, today was a good day. She had her needed material. She managed to catch two previously categorized beetle species for examination. And judging by the car parked outside, Victoria came home today.
Having her daughter living at the university during the day made this a bit difficult on Harriet. She felt she had just gotten used to having someone else in the home, and it being as empty as it was proved difficult at times. She had thought about getting a dog, but her work kept her out of the home for long periods of time now. She felt the travel was much more needed than the animal companionship.
Still, it was nice to receive visitors. Even if, in her mind, the "visitor" still lived there.
Harriet walked in to the kitchen where--sure enough--her daughter was rummaging in the fridge, hunched over like a thief trying to make themselves as small as possible.
"Well, I'm glad you don't feel the need to ask for food within the home, Vicky."
The girl jumped, barely managing to avoid hitting her head on the door. She spun around, obviously surprised and trying to look upset but failing. She couldn't help the grin that was crossing her face upon hearing her name.
"You know I asked you to call me Victoria now, Harriet," she said, one hand on her hip and one hand gesturing at her with the apple.
Harriet came around the counter between them to give the girl a hug. Well, maybe not so much a girl any more. "And I asked you to call me Mom. Guess neither of us are getting our wishes today, hmm?"
"Hey, at least I managed to stop calling you 'Miss Stanford.'"
"After you managed to ruin a few business dinners with extreme awkwardness, yes." Harriet pulled back from the embrace and looked at her. No matter how old she got, Harriet still pictured her as the girl she took out to the field ten years ago. "You look well. Classes going alright?"
Vicky rolled her eyes. "Like they're ever not."
Harriet took the apple from Vicky's hand. "Good. Then let's have dinner, instead of snacking. And I'm glad to see you're grabbing apples instead of the Jello in the back."
"There was Jello??"
Harriet laughed. Every day she was around Victoria she was reminded just how lucky she was. Things could have gone very differently ten years ago when they came back from the Precipitous Bar. Surprisingly, though, everything ended up being for the best. Well, mostly for the best.
"How is your dad?"
Victoria's happy demeanor slid for a moment. She managed to keep a hold of her smile, but a sadness entered her eyes. "He's doing fine, all things told. How did you know I'd gone to see him?"
"We spent a year together in a place where your feelings took physical form. You don't come out of something like that without being able to read each other a little better."
She nodded. There was more than once that the situation had been reversed, and she had caught Harriet trying to keep some sort of secret from her. Such as when Harriet was trying to figure out how to explain to a young girl what had happened to her father that she no longer saw.
"I think he's actually better. It's been a long time, I know, and I don't want to fall into the old hopeful habits. But he actually thanked me today."
"Thanked you? Really? Did he say for what?"
"For leaving. I think he's finally come to understand why I did, and what he did to..." she stopped at this point. The smile faded for a moment, but came back quickly. "It's hard, sometimes, to deal with all of this."
"You made the right decision, Victoria. You stood up to the abuse, the hardest step for someone in your shoes, and managed to stop it without it consuming who you were."
She smiled now, genuinely. "It only took me a year to figure that out, though. A full year in the Precipitous Bar. Strange how that worked out."
"On the contrary," Harriet said, grinning back. "It only took you five hours. It may have seemed like a year to the two of us, but only a few hours passed here." She crossed her arms, but kept her smile. "I thought we agreed not to talk about our time at the bar, anyway?"
"That doesn't mean I don't think about it. And don't tell me you don't, too. I can tell every time it does, and it's almost every time you see me." Harriet shrugged her shoulders, but didn't deny it.
"I don't..." Victoria paused, and her tone turned serious. "I don't think I've thanked you enough for everything you did for me when we got back."
"You have, actually. More than enough." Harriet locked eyes with Vicky, trying to make sure she realized her seriousness. It was a conversation they had repeated time and again; Harriet found herself wondering if Vicky would ever stop feeling like she was a burden. "I am so glad I had the opportunity to take you in when you needed me. Although, to be honest, I think we owe Evan's parents more than anything else. They made me sound like a hero at your hearing, and I don't think it would have worked out any other way."
"But if it wasn't for them, you may not have lost your job at the school." She suddenly seemed very distracted by something by her feet.
Harriet knew what she was leaving unsaid. Vicky felt she and Evan were responsible for the school board having her removed. It was a feeling Harriet had been trying to help Vicky fight since she was young. It wasn't a battle she was winning; Vicky suffered from a guilty conscious that was more stubborn than both of them put together. Still, she was obligated to try.
"You know, maybe I should thank them for that, too," she said, putting back on the charming smile. "Since I finally stopped teaching at that school, I've become very successful. I even got to teach at the university for a few years! I can't be too upset at the opportunities that have come my way."
Vicky nodded, forcing a smile that slowly grew into a real one. "Do you every think about it? I mean, really think about what happened while we were there?"
"Of course. I'm reminded almost every day." Harriet turned and walked over to the kitchen window, glancing out. "I still talk to his parents, you know. They haven't heard from him either. It still shocks me how well they took the news."
"Well, they weren't exactly surprised. Evan told him what he was doing from the beginning. Half their family had a tendency to disappear looking for this place. At least they knew for certain that Evan had found it."
"I suppose that's why they never pressed charges, despite pressure from the school board." Harriet sighed. It was hard thinking about Evan. For all the help she was able to give Vicky, she always regretted that she couldn't help Evan. "I wonder what he's doing now. It's had to have been close to twenty thousand years that have passed over there."
"Well, I wanted to give you a gift for helping me out all this time," Vicky said. Although Harriet wasn't looking at her, she could feel her excitement. "So, here it is. Now you can ask him yourself."
Harriet swung around. From the nearby hallway strode a tall man. He had slightly lighter hair, and his skin was so pale he almost seemed to be painted white. His ears stuck out at a strange angle from his head and came to points, and his nose seemed smaller than she remembered. But the eyes, the expressions, the rough cheekbones and pointed chin were all the same. The man standing before her was unmistakeably--
"Evan."
He smiled, the same broad smile he had used so many years ago when he lead Harriet to the fantastical world of the Precipitous Bar. Harriet walked over to him slowly. He opened his arms in an obvious invitation. Harriet found herself touching his arm first, trying to make sure he was real, before leaning in for hug. Evan's arms obliged gratefully.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came here for you."
Harriet pushed away, looking up. "What? Why?"
He smiled. "I'm sorry to be abrupt, but I don't have a lot of time here; days pass there as I speak. The goblins have come in to the bar for the first time that any can remember. They demand their Hobgoblin return, that we bring her to them."
Harriet looked at him, confused. Victoria spoke up. "Don't you remember? That group of them called you Hobgoblin on when we were leaving. You said one goblin called you that as you entered the bar, too."
Harriet stared at her for a moment before nodding. She walked briskly into her room, Evan and Victoria following not too far behind. Evan was calling after her, obviously worried she was trying to avoid going.
As they came into her bedroom, Harriet threw a pair of large bundles at them. Evan quickly unwrapped his; it contained a large bow and quiver of arrows, as well as a long sword tucked into a thick leather sheath.
Victoria watched, confused. She unwrapped hers to find a set of daggers, and a fantasy role playing book. She hefted the book and looked at Harriet quizzically. "What is this for?"
"Focus," Harriet said, as she took a strange looking, cloth-wrapped wooden rod down from the wall. "You can use it to help you with your... Well, I guess your 'magic' that you use while we're over there." Pulling the staff apart from the middle, she drew two wickedly sharp looking blades from the sheaths contained within. The blades were thick, hand-folded steel; Harriet had spent a small fortune buying them ages ago, and now was very happy for the time spent training with them and keeping them in good shape.
"I can't go. I've got school in a few months! Who knows how long we'll be gone??"
"Even if we were there for a hundred years, you'd still have the rest of the summer to spend." She smiled at her. "Besides, you really want to miss your chance to go back?"
It only took Vicky a moment before she shook her head. "I miss it more than anything."
Harriet grabbed a few more things she thought might be important and stuffed them into the pockets of a long coat she kept for travel. It was light, but it covered a lot, and had enough pockets to hold most anything she wanted to bring along without looking too conspicuous.
It had been a curious few years indeed.
"So what do they want from me anyway?" Harriet asked as they made their way out the front door and to Vicky's car.
"C'mon, now, Harriet," Evan said, in high spirits. "You really don't think I'd come bother you here for anything short of slaying a dragon, right?"
Harriet laughed for a moment, until she realized she was the only one doing so. She looked at the two of them, both with serious, but excited, expressions. They stood there as such, standing outside of Vicky's car, sharing a moment of awkward silence.
"Wait, what?"
Fin
Harriet closed her door behind her and locked it. Dropping her backpack on the floor, careful despite happy she was to be rid of it, she stretched her shoulders. Despite the break during the drive home, her back still ached from carry the heavy thing for the majority of the week. Still, she got a lot done; she finally had enough material to finish her latest book.
Harriet still wasn't sure why she was so devoted to writing this book. The past few years had been kind, and she could live comfortably off the sales of her last few publications. Still, one isn't called the "premier name in entomological behavior sciences" by relying on one's previous successes. She had to keep getting out into the field.
It wasn't easy, though. Each trip out was a gentle reminder, and there was only so many times you can jump into a stream and start randomly walking downstream before your team starts to ask questions. Questions that you really do not want to answer.
Still, today was a good day. She had her needed material. She managed to catch two previously categorized beetle species for examination. And judging by the car parked outside, Victoria came home today.
Having her daughter living at the university during the day made this a bit difficult on Harriet. She felt she had just gotten used to having someone else in the home, and it being as empty as it was proved difficult at times. She had thought about getting a dog, but her work kept her out of the home for long periods of time now. She felt the travel was much more needed than the animal companionship.
Still, it was nice to receive visitors. Even if, in her mind, the "visitor" still lived there.
Harriet walked in to the kitchen where--sure enough--her daughter was rummaging in the fridge, hunched over like a thief trying to make themselves as small as possible.
"Well, I'm glad you don't feel the need to ask for food within the home, Vicky."
The girl jumped, barely managing to avoid hitting her head on the door. She spun around, obviously surprised and trying to look upset but failing. She couldn't help the grin that was crossing her face upon hearing her name.
"You know I asked you to call me Victoria now, Harriet," she said, one hand on her hip and one hand gesturing at her with the apple.
Harriet came around the counter between them to give the girl a hug. Well, maybe not so much a girl any more. "And I asked you to call me Mom. Guess neither of us are getting our wishes today, hmm?"
"Hey, at least I managed to stop calling you 'Miss Stanford.'"
"After you managed to ruin a few business dinners with extreme awkwardness, yes." Harriet pulled back from the embrace and looked at her. No matter how old she got, Harriet still pictured her as the girl she took out to the field ten years ago. "You look well. Classes going alright?"
Vicky rolled her eyes. "Like they're ever not."
Harriet took the apple from Vicky's hand. "Good. Then let's have dinner, instead of snacking. And I'm glad to see you're grabbing apples instead of the Jello in the back."
"There was Jello??"
Harriet laughed. Every day she was around Victoria she was reminded just how lucky she was. Things could have gone very differently ten years ago when they came back from the Precipitous Bar. Surprisingly, though, everything ended up being for the best. Well, mostly for the best.
"How is your dad?"
Victoria's happy demeanor slid for a moment. She managed to keep a hold of her smile, but a sadness entered her eyes. "He's doing fine, all things told. How did you know I'd gone to see him?"
"We spent a year together in a place where your feelings took physical form. You don't come out of something like that without being able to read each other a little better."
She nodded. There was more than once that the situation had been reversed, and she had caught Harriet trying to keep some sort of secret from her. Such as when Harriet was trying to figure out how to explain to a young girl what had happened to her father that she no longer saw.
"I think he's actually better. It's been a long time, I know, and I don't want to fall into the old hopeful habits. But he actually thanked me today."
"Thanked you? Really? Did he say for what?"
"For leaving. I think he's finally come to understand why I did, and what he did to..." she stopped at this point. The smile faded for a moment, but came back quickly. "It's hard, sometimes, to deal with all of this."
"You made the right decision, Victoria. You stood up to the abuse, the hardest step for someone in your shoes, and managed to stop it without it consuming who you were."
She smiled now, genuinely. "It only took me a year to figure that out, though. A full year in the Precipitous Bar. Strange how that worked out."
"On the contrary," Harriet said, grinning back. "It only took you five hours. It may have seemed like a year to the two of us, but only a few hours passed here." She crossed her arms, but kept her smile. "I thought we agreed not to talk about our time at the bar, anyway?"
"That doesn't mean I don't think about it. And don't tell me you don't, too. I can tell every time it does, and it's almost every time you see me." Harriet shrugged her shoulders, but didn't deny it.
"I don't..." Victoria paused, and her tone turned serious. "I don't think I've thanked you enough for everything you did for me when we got back."
"You have, actually. More than enough." Harriet locked eyes with Vicky, trying to make sure she realized her seriousness. It was a conversation they had repeated time and again; Harriet found herself wondering if Vicky would ever stop feeling like she was a burden. "I am so glad I had the opportunity to take you in when you needed me. Although, to be honest, I think we owe Evan's parents more than anything else. They made me sound like a hero at your hearing, and I don't think it would have worked out any other way."
"But if it wasn't for them, you may not have lost your job at the school." She suddenly seemed very distracted by something by her feet.
Harriet knew what she was leaving unsaid. Vicky felt she and Evan were responsible for the school board having her removed. It was a feeling Harriet had been trying to help Vicky fight since she was young. It wasn't a battle she was winning; Vicky suffered from a guilty conscious that was more stubborn than both of them put together. Still, she was obligated to try.
"You know, maybe I should thank them for that, too," she said, putting back on the charming smile. "Since I finally stopped teaching at that school, I've become very successful. I even got to teach at the university for a few years! I can't be too upset at the opportunities that have come my way."
Vicky nodded, forcing a smile that slowly grew into a real one. "Do you every think about it? I mean, really think about what happened while we were there?"
"Of course. I'm reminded almost every day." Harriet turned and walked over to the kitchen window, glancing out. "I still talk to his parents, you know. They haven't heard from him either. It still shocks me how well they took the news."
"Well, they weren't exactly surprised. Evan told him what he was doing from the beginning. Half their family had a tendency to disappear looking for this place. At least they knew for certain that Evan had found it."
"I suppose that's why they never pressed charges, despite pressure from the school board." Harriet sighed. It was hard thinking about Evan. For all the help she was able to give Vicky, she always regretted that she couldn't help Evan. "I wonder what he's doing now. It's had to have been close to twenty thousand years that have passed over there."
"Well, I wanted to give you a gift for helping me out all this time," Vicky said. Although Harriet wasn't looking at her, she could feel her excitement. "So, here it is. Now you can ask him yourself."
Harriet swung around. From the nearby hallway strode a tall man. He had slightly lighter hair, and his skin was so pale he almost seemed to be painted white. His ears stuck out at a strange angle from his head and came to points, and his nose seemed smaller than she remembered. But the eyes, the expressions, the rough cheekbones and pointed chin were all the same. The man standing before her was unmistakeably--
"Evan."
He smiled, the same broad smile he had used so many years ago when he lead Harriet to the fantastical world of the Precipitous Bar. Harriet walked over to him slowly. He opened his arms in an obvious invitation. Harriet found herself touching his arm first, trying to make sure he was real, before leaning in for hug. Evan's arms obliged gratefully.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came here for you."
Harriet pushed away, looking up. "What? Why?"
He smiled. "I'm sorry to be abrupt, but I don't have a lot of time here; days pass there as I speak. The goblins have come in to the bar for the first time that any can remember. They demand their Hobgoblin return, that we bring her to them."
Harriet looked at him, confused. Victoria spoke up. "Don't you remember? That group of them called you Hobgoblin on when we were leaving. You said one goblin called you that as you entered the bar, too."
Harriet stared at her for a moment before nodding. She walked briskly into her room, Evan and Victoria following not too far behind. Evan was calling after her, obviously worried she was trying to avoid going.
As they came into her bedroom, Harriet threw a pair of large bundles at them. Evan quickly unwrapped his; it contained a large bow and quiver of arrows, as well as a long sword tucked into a thick leather sheath.
Victoria watched, confused. She unwrapped hers to find a set of daggers, and a fantasy role playing book. She hefted the book and looked at Harriet quizzically. "What is this for?"
"Focus," Harriet said, as she took a strange looking, cloth-wrapped wooden rod down from the wall. "You can use it to help you with your... Well, I guess your 'magic' that you use while we're over there." Pulling the staff apart from the middle, she drew two wickedly sharp looking blades from the sheaths contained within. The blades were thick, hand-folded steel; Harriet had spent a small fortune buying them ages ago, and now was very happy for the time spent training with them and keeping them in good shape.
"I can't go. I've got school in a few months! Who knows how long we'll be gone??"
"Even if we were there for a hundred years, you'd still have the rest of the summer to spend." She smiled at her. "Besides, you really want to miss your chance to go back?"
It only took Vicky a moment before she shook her head. "I miss it more than anything."
Harriet grabbed a few more things she thought might be important and stuffed them into the pockets of a long coat she kept for travel. It was light, but it covered a lot, and had enough pockets to hold most anything she wanted to bring along without looking too conspicuous.
It had been a curious few years indeed.
"So what do they want from me anyway?" Harriet asked as they made their way out the front door and to Vicky's car.
"C'mon, now, Harriet," Evan said, in high spirits. "You really don't think I'd come bother you here for anything short of slaying a dragon, right?"
Harriet laughed for a moment, until she realized she was the only one doing so. She looked at the two of them, both with serious, but excited, expressions. They stood there as such, standing outside of Vicky's car, sharing a moment of awkward silence.
"Wait, what?"
Fin
A Little Reflection
Well, I'm coming close to the end of the Precipitous Bar. It was a strange journey, to say the least. I have had a tendency that, when inspiration hits me on something like this, to simply tell the story. It happens a lot, to be honest. I've made some efforts previously to try to write these sort of things down, but infrequently. I've always considered myself more of a storyteller than anything else, but as was pointed out to me, it's not that big of a jump to go from a storyteller to a writer.
The problem I used to run into when trying to translate the thoughts to the page was more of a time thing. The necessities of work, responsibilities, social life and an effort to relax periodically kind of restrained me from investing the time and effort that I would put in to writing. Honestly, let's face it: although you may love it, although you may enjoy doing it, writing can be stressful. Well, for a purpose, or to accomplish something anyway. Writing for the hell of it can be liberating.
Still, there's a lot of work that goes into getting a story on paper (or, in my case, on the intarwebs) that you don't have to worry about when you're just happy to tell people the stories. Fact checking, settings information, outlining/pacing the story... It can get crazy. Even the act of writing itself, trying to get the words down while the story is still trying to move in your head, can cause issues. You find yourself jumping ahead, or going back and fixing items instead of trying to continue where you are.
The bar was different, though. This was sudden; it came all at once, not like most of my typical stories. Granted, parts of it did still require fixing in order to make the story work, but it wasn't the slow business of trying to grow the story from a seed. It was awesome to come to it all at once, but it gave its own complications. Specifically, trying to get the story down (and not get burn out part way, my biggest weakness) without forgetting it.
The size of the story made it a bit easier, thankfully. And honestly, I didn't really concern myself with a lot of the issues I normally approach in most of my writing; I didn't worry about specific pacing, interest or really anything other than getting it down. Heck, I've even been lectured on grammar use in part of it, and I didn't go back and correct it. Yeah, I know. I didn't correct a grammatical mistake. It's like years of well-trained OCD, all down the drain.
In the end, though, I think it was good for me. I have a bad tendency to get burnt-out on writing in most situations; I don't tend to get a lot of feedback, positive or negative, on a lot of my fiction writing, so I tend to lose my drive to continue to do so. Non-fiction or personal writing, sure, but for some reason the stories get overlooked. Well, I assume they do; either that, or everyone is creepily quiet about it, which could be a good or bad thing.
Still, the point is, I've just about finished this one, and I finished it for me. I didn't really have any particular reason to do so (well, Shae did tell me she was growing impatient with waiting on more, but honestly I missed most of those comments until recently, anyway...), but I still managed to keep myself motivated and in-charge. Here's hoping that I can keep this attitude up. I've got a lot more I'd like to get done.
Here's hoping I can find my notes, too... I still can't find my folder with all my info on Deciduoh and Aeternus, and I want to at least include some pictures if nothing else. Ah well. Thanks for reading, if you made it this far!
The problem I used to run into when trying to translate the thoughts to the page was more of a time thing. The necessities of work, responsibilities, social life and an effort to relax periodically kind of restrained me from investing the time and effort that I would put in to writing. Honestly, let's face it: although you may love it, although you may enjoy doing it, writing can be stressful. Well, for a purpose, or to accomplish something anyway. Writing for the hell of it can be liberating.
Still, there's a lot of work that goes into getting a story on paper (or, in my case, on the intarwebs) that you don't have to worry about when you're just happy to tell people the stories. Fact checking, settings information, outlining/pacing the story... It can get crazy. Even the act of writing itself, trying to get the words down while the story is still trying to move in your head, can cause issues. You find yourself jumping ahead, or going back and fixing items instead of trying to continue where you are.
The bar was different, though. This was sudden; it came all at once, not like most of my typical stories. Granted, parts of it did still require fixing in order to make the story work, but it wasn't the slow business of trying to grow the story from a seed. It was awesome to come to it all at once, but it gave its own complications. Specifically, trying to get the story down (and not get burn out part way, my biggest weakness) without forgetting it.
The size of the story made it a bit easier, thankfully. And honestly, I didn't really concern myself with a lot of the issues I normally approach in most of my writing; I didn't worry about specific pacing, interest or really anything other than getting it down. Heck, I've even been lectured on grammar use in part of it, and I didn't go back and correct it. Yeah, I know. I didn't correct a grammatical mistake. It's like years of well-trained OCD, all down the drain.
In the end, though, I think it was good for me. I have a bad tendency to get burnt-out on writing in most situations; I don't tend to get a lot of feedback, positive or negative, on a lot of my fiction writing, so I tend to lose my drive to continue to do so. Non-fiction or personal writing, sure, but for some reason the stories get overlooked. Well, I assume they do; either that, or everyone is creepily quiet about it, which could be a good or bad thing.
Still, the point is, I've just about finished this one, and I finished it for me. I didn't really have any particular reason to do so (well, Shae did tell me she was growing impatient with waiting on more, but honestly I missed most of those comments until recently, anyway...), but I still managed to keep myself motivated and in-charge. Here's hoping that I can keep this attitude up. I've got a lot more I'd like to get done.
Here's hoping I can find my notes, too... I still can't find my folder with all my info on Deciduoh and Aeternus, and I want to at least include some pictures if nothing else. Ah well. Thanks for reading, if you made it this far!
The Precipitous Bar, part 7
Click here to start at beginning, or here to read the previous entry. Fair warning: we're coming close to the end, so don't start here if you want to avoid spoiling the story.
Although their was enough light to see by within the maze of cages, there was no mistaking the bright opening as anything but the outside. The warm light of the eternal dusk seemed to beckon as Harriet found herself actually having to jog to keep up with Vicky's steady pace.
Evan managed to avoid being drug through the intervening space, getting his feet under him soon after they started out. Eventually, he managed to wrestle out of Vicky's grasp, looking perturbed but otherwise unharmed.
"Any idea on what to expect on the other side?" Harriet asked him as they crossed the last few cages. Some of them were occupied, but no one came close to them as they strode through. In fact, most of them cowered in the corner. Whether it was from Vicky's powerful display earlier, or the tight set to her jaw as her walk engulfed the land, Harriet had no idea.
Evan shook his head. "I honestly have no idea. I'm guessing that something is going to be waiting for us, though."
"Why do you say that?"
Evan pointed over to his left, about sixty feet down from the hole they were approaching. "That's where the exit is." Harriet's eyes widened as she understood his implication. "I'm guessing displacing that much stone made a lot of noise."
There was a loud wrenching noise from behind as Vicky crossed the threshold into outside. The change in light as they approached the hole was affecting Harriet's vision, so she couldn't see clearly inside the cave, outside of Evan coming up behind her. She instead followed behind Vicky, hoping that Evan would think to watch the entrance, and stepped into the evening.
They found themselves on a wide plateau made from the same red clay they had been dealing with since they arrived, about a hundred feet from the edge of a cliff. On the other side of the cliff there was only sky, with wispy, still clouds glowing in deep colors in the distance. The sun hovered unnaturally, perfectly still within a perfect painting.
At the edge of the cliff, straight ahead from where they stood, hanging over with only the doorway on solid ground, was a ramshackle old building. Stained but unpainted, it looked almost more like a cabin than a typical bar. Neon lights made the open door glow in a plethora of unnatural colors, and smoke danced along to a tune that wasn't heard, playing its own melody with the strange lights as it issued from any opening it could find in the building, whether it was the front window or the tiny crack in the wall on the side.
Standing between them and the bar was an enormous line of goblins. They were a strange sight against the sky, all sharing colors with the horizon behind them, ranging from deep purples to burnt reds and subdued yellows. They way they seemed to blend in with the background almost made them appear to be apart of the sunset itself. Perhaps that is the point, Harriet thought quietly.
In the center, directly in front of the bar, stood the tallest of them: the gray goblin, their new nemesis. He still wielded his same broadsword, but it looked different now. It had its own fire, one to match the strange sun behind them, a reddish glow that caused strange shadows to crawl across his features, causing him to seem even more menacing than before.
Harriet looked back over her shoulder. Behind them was only a large rock wall, about forty feet high. And through the hole nearby strode Evan, a large section of a metal pole tightly gripped in both hands like a staff, explaining the strange noise Harriet had heard. Seeing the crowd of goblins, Harriet expected him to pale; instead, he set his jaw and tightened his already white-knuckle grip on the staff.
There was a loud bang. Harriet turned back around to see Vicky, standing only a few steps away, hands positioned palm-to-palm in front of her chest as if in prayer. The noise seemed to center on her, but not quite. It's the like the noise didn't come from her, but actually flowed to her.
Vicky opened her hands, and the air rippled. A wave spread out from her, toward the crowd of creatures. As the wave reached them, they tumbled, knocked onto their backs and each other, becoming a tangled mess of leather, metal and flesh. None of them seemed able to regain their feet, although a few managed to prop themselves up.
None except the giant. He did not budge at all as the wave passed by him. His sword seemed to glow a little brighter as he moved forward, striding defiantly towards Vicky. Vicky extended her palm towards him, and a shimmering ball rocketed towards the goblin, but it had little effect. He swept his blade at it as it approached, and it simply ceased to be. His strange, thin mouth curled upwards into a smile as raised the weapon above his head and broke into a run, and a growl escaped them as he leaped the last few feet and brought the weapon down.
Harriet couldn't move, couldn't react. She found herself frozen, barely able to process what was even happening.
What are you doing?
There was an enormous ringing sound that caused her to start. Evan had managed to place the steel staff between Vicky and the goblin. The weapon had cut through the steel, but not before Evan manged to deflect the blow away.
I went to school for this, to teach. What's it matter if it's college students or middle school?
The goblin showed his teeth, grinning widely at the newcomer that he was after to begin with. His sword seemed to flare as he twisted it, taking a swing aimed at Evan's neck. He barely managed to avoid it, shoving his iron pole upwards to force the blade over his head and dodging the hot piece of metal that fell from the staff as another piece was sheered off.
You're better than this, Harriet. You've been doing research for your entire life. You should be in the field! Not stuck in the classroom with children who don't even want to be there.
Blow after blow Evan managed to hold the towering goblin off. Vicky had fallen back, eyes wide at the spectacle before her. Evan was starting to lose ground; his long pole was now down to only a couple of feet, not even close to the size of the sword it was barely managing to parry.
This is about those tests, right? Who cares what the doctors say. You could still have children. You don't need to do this.
The pole couldn't hold up under the onslaught. With one last ring, it cracked lengthwise, falling apart in Evan's hands as he stumbled backwards from the blow. The goblin took one giant step towards Evan, pulling the sword back and preparing to skewer him.
I care.
Harriet's was in front of goblin before she had even realized she was moving. Her hand was out across her body as she faced the goblin, and she had grabbed the blade of the sword mid thrust, inches away from Evan's body. She held it, perfectly still, as the goblin tried to wrench it free, pulling and pushing with both arms. The sword hissed around her hands, smoke coming out from either side of her hand. The glow slowly started to leave the blade.
She looked calmly into the creature's eyes. It registered again that she was looking down at it, and it was unable to break her gaze as its eyes grew wide once again, this time in recognition.
"You will not harm these children."
She squeezed her hand. The sword contorted, bending beneath her grip before snapping in half. The goblin staggered as the pressure keeping him from moving suddenly stopped. Having been forced to break eye contact, he stepped back and looked around. Harriet took a moment to see where he was looking.
The others were standing around, watching. Some had finally managed to stand up; others remained propped up on elbows or sitting, but all had their eyes fixated on the two of them. None moved to engage, though; in fact, they seemed to be looking on with pity, as opposed to fear or excitement.
The goblin tried to use the distraction to take a shot at Harriet's blind side, swinging the remaining half of his sword. He misjudged. Harriet simply raised her hand once again, catching the blade by the edge. With her other arm, she swung a closed fist at the goblin's head.
The goblin's feet left the ground as Harriet's fist crushed bone beneath it. He was sprawled on his back, still conscious and holding his face. He scrambled back and up onto his feet. He was panting, still backing up but gaining no distance. Harriet was advancing on him, although she barely realized it.
"Walk away," she simply stated.
He growled once more and lunged at her, bare-handed, like a football player going for a tackle. Harriet side-stepped and grabbed his arm with both hands. She spun once in a circle, using his own weight for a counter-balance as she gained momentum, and threw him as hard as she could.
The goblin flew through the air, over the heads of the onlookers whose gazes followed his trajectory, before bouncing once at the edge before disappearing over the cliff. The rest of the goblins turned slowly back towards the humans.
Harriet took one look back over her shoulder at the two children. Evan was holding his shoulder, and Vicky had regained her composure. She swallowed hard and nodded. Harriet nodded as well and turn back towards the bar. She began walking towards the bar, the two younger people staying close behind.
The goblins made no move outside of a few of them stepping out of the way. Harriet strode up confidently past them; she had a hard time feeling angry towards the strange creatures, but she wasn't about to let them harm any of them, either.
As they got close, Evan and Vicky broke out into a run. They quickly outpaced Harriet, who was trying to meet gazes to make sure they weren't going to be jumped on the way. The two of them burst through the doorway, only to stop on the other side, still visible.
As Harriet passed by, the closest goblin nodded while holding her gaze. "You won't be attacked again, Hobgoblin," it said. "Nor will your friends." It nodded once more, releasing his gaze this time and turning to the other goblins. He said something she couldn't understand, and the others started to make their way towards the hole in the wall.
Confused but satisfied, Harriet watched them leave for a moment before turning back to the bar. She walked up behind the two children who were still standing just beyond the doorway. They both were looking at a man standing behind the bar. He was older, perhaps fifty or so, with slender features and long, pointed ears. He was cleaning mugs with a supernatural finesse, tossing them in the air and wiping them with a cloth as they spun. Harriet found herself staring for a while herself at the spectacle.
"Uncle Todd..." Evan said, breaking the silence.
The strange man stopped his juggling and looked up at the new comers. A smile made its way across his face. "Oh! Hello there, Evan."
Although their was enough light to see by within the maze of cages, there was no mistaking the bright opening as anything but the outside. The warm light of the eternal dusk seemed to beckon as Harriet found herself actually having to jog to keep up with Vicky's steady pace.
Evan managed to avoid being drug through the intervening space, getting his feet under him soon after they started out. Eventually, he managed to wrestle out of Vicky's grasp, looking perturbed but otherwise unharmed.
"Any idea on what to expect on the other side?" Harriet asked him as they crossed the last few cages. Some of them were occupied, but no one came close to them as they strode through. In fact, most of them cowered in the corner. Whether it was from Vicky's powerful display earlier, or the tight set to her jaw as her walk engulfed the land, Harriet had no idea.
Evan shook his head. "I honestly have no idea. I'm guessing that something is going to be waiting for us, though."
"Why do you say that?"
Evan pointed over to his left, about sixty feet down from the hole they were approaching. "That's where the exit is." Harriet's eyes widened as she understood his implication. "I'm guessing displacing that much stone made a lot of noise."
There was a loud wrenching noise from behind as Vicky crossed the threshold into outside. The change in light as they approached the hole was affecting Harriet's vision, so she couldn't see clearly inside the cave, outside of Evan coming up behind her. She instead followed behind Vicky, hoping that Evan would think to watch the entrance, and stepped into the evening.
They found themselves on a wide plateau made from the same red clay they had been dealing with since they arrived, about a hundred feet from the edge of a cliff. On the other side of the cliff there was only sky, with wispy, still clouds glowing in deep colors in the distance. The sun hovered unnaturally, perfectly still within a perfect painting.
At the edge of the cliff, straight ahead from where they stood, hanging over with only the doorway on solid ground, was a ramshackle old building. Stained but unpainted, it looked almost more like a cabin than a typical bar. Neon lights made the open door glow in a plethora of unnatural colors, and smoke danced along to a tune that wasn't heard, playing its own melody with the strange lights as it issued from any opening it could find in the building, whether it was the front window or the tiny crack in the wall on the side.
Standing between them and the bar was an enormous line of goblins. They were a strange sight against the sky, all sharing colors with the horizon behind them, ranging from deep purples to burnt reds and subdued yellows. They way they seemed to blend in with the background almost made them appear to be apart of the sunset itself. Perhaps that is the point, Harriet thought quietly.
In the center, directly in front of the bar, stood the tallest of them: the gray goblin, their new nemesis. He still wielded his same broadsword, but it looked different now. It had its own fire, one to match the strange sun behind them, a reddish glow that caused strange shadows to crawl across his features, causing him to seem even more menacing than before.
Harriet looked back over her shoulder. Behind them was only a large rock wall, about forty feet high. And through the hole nearby strode Evan, a large section of a metal pole tightly gripped in both hands like a staff, explaining the strange noise Harriet had heard. Seeing the crowd of goblins, Harriet expected him to pale; instead, he set his jaw and tightened his already white-knuckle grip on the staff.
There was a loud bang. Harriet turned back around to see Vicky, standing only a few steps away, hands positioned palm-to-palm in front of her chest as if in prayer. The noise seemed to center on her, but not quite. It's the like the noise didn't come from her, but actually flowed to her.
Vicky opened her hands, and the air rippled. A wave spread out from her, toward the crowd of creatures. As the wave reached them, they tumbled, knocked onto their backs and each other, becoming a tangled mess of leather, metal and flesh. None of them seemed able to regain their feet, although a few managed to prop themselves up.
None except the giant. He did not budge at all as the wave passed by him. His sword seemed to glow a little brighter as he moved forward, striding defiantly towards Vicky. Vicky extended her palm towards him, and a shimmering ball rocketed towards the goblin, but it had little effect. He swept his blade at it as it approached, and it simply ceased to be. His strange, thin mouth curled upwards into a smile as raised the weapon above his head and broke into a run, and a growl escaped them as he leaped the last few feet and brought the weapon down.
Harriet couldn't move, couldn't react. She found herself frozen, barely able to process what was even happening.
What are you doing?
There was an enormous ringing sound that caused her to start. Evan had managed to place the steel staff between Vicky and the goblin. The weapon had cut through the steel, but not before Evan manged to deflect the blow away.
I went to school for this, to teach. What's it matter if it's college students or middle school?
The goblin showed his teeth, grinning widely at the newcomer that he was after to begin with. His sword seemed to flare as he twisted it, taking a swing aimed at Evan's neck. He barely managed to avoid it, shoving his iron pole upwards to force the blade over his head and dodging the hot piece of metal that fell from the staff as another piece was sheered off.
You're better than this, Harriet. You've been doing research for your entire life. You should be in the field! Not stuck in the classroom with children who don't even want to be there.
Blow after blow Evan managed to hold the towering goblin off. Vicky had fallen back, eyes wide at the spectacle before her. Evan was starting to lose ground; his long pole was now down to only a couple of feet, not even close to the size of the sword it was barely managing to parry.
This is about those tests, right? Who cares what the doctors say. You could still have children. You don't need to do this.
The pole couldn't hold up under the onslaught. With one last ring, it cracked lengthwise, falling apart in Evan's hands as he stumbled backwards from the blow. The goblin took one giant step towards Evan, pulling the sword back and preparing to skewer him.
I care.
Harriet's was in front of goblin before she had even realized she was moving. Her hand was out across her body as she faced the goblin, and she had grabbed the blade of the sword mid thrust, inches away from Evan's body. She held it, perfectly still, as the goblin tried to wrench it free, pulling and pushing with both arms. The sword hissed around her hands, smoke coming out from either side of her hand. The glow slowly started to leave the blade.
She looked calmly into the creature's eyes. It registered again that she was looking down at it, and it was unable to break her gaze as its eyes grew wide once again, this time in recognition.
"You will not harm these children."
She squeezed her hand. The sword contorted, bending beneath her grip before snapping in half. The goblin staggered as the pressure keeping him from moving suddenly stopped. Having been forced to break eye contact, he stepped back and looked around. Harriet took a moment to see where he was looking.
The others were standing around, watching. Some had finally managed to stand up; others remained propped up on elbows or sitting, but all had their eyes fixated on the two of them. None moved to engage, though; in fact, they seemed to be looking on with pity, as opposed to fear or excitement.
The goblin tried to use the distraction to take a shot at Harriet's blind side, swinging the remaining half of his sword. He misjudged. Harriet simply raised her hand once again, catching the blade by the edge. With her other arm, she swung a closed fist at the goblin's head.
The goblin's feet left the ground as Harriet's fist crushed bone beneath it. He was sprawled on his back, still conscious and holding his face. He scrambled back and up onto his feet. He was panting, still backing up but gaining no distance. Harriet was advancing on him, although she barely realized it.
"Walk away," she simply stated.
He growled once more and lunged at her, bare-handed, like a football player going for a tackle. Harriet side-stepped and grabbed his arm with both hands. She spun once in a circle, using his own weight for a counter-balance as she gained momentum, and threw him as hard as she could.
The goblin flew through the air, over the heads of the onlookers whose gazes followed his trajectory, before bouncing once at the edge before disappearing over the cliff. The rest of the goblins turned slowly back towards the humans.
Harriet took one look back over her shoulder at the two children. Evan was holding his shoulder, and Vicky had regained her composure. She swallowed hard and nodded. Harriet nodded as well and turn back towards the bar. She began walking towards the bar, the two younger people staying close behind.
The goblins made no move outside of a few of them stepping out of the way. Harriet strode up confidently past them; she had a hard time feeling angry towards the strange creatures, but she wasn't about to let them harm any of them, either.
As they got close, Evan and Vicky broke out into a run. They quickly outpaced Harriet, who was trying to meet gazes to make sure they weren't going to be jumped on the way. The two of them burst through the doorway, only to stop on the other side, still visible.
As Harriet passed by, the closest goblin nodded while holding her gaze. "You won't be attacked again, Hobgoblin," it said. "Nor will your friends." It nodded once more, releasing his gaze this time and turning to the other goblins. He said something she couldn't understand, and the others started to make their way towards the hole in the wall.
Confused but satisfied, Harriet watched them leave for a moment before turning back to the bar. She walked up behind the two children who were still standing just beyond the doorway. They both were looking at a man standing behind the bar. He was older, perhaps fifty or so, with slender features and long, pointed ears. He was cleaning mugs with a supernatural finesse, tossing them in the air and wiping them with a cloth as they spun. Harriet found herself staring for a while herself at the spectacle.
"Uncle Todd..." Evan said, breaking the silence.
The strange man stopped his juggling and looked up at the new comers. A smile made its way across his face. "Oh! Hello there, Evan."
The Precipitous Bar, part 6
Click here to start at beginning, or here to read the previous entry.
Harriet leaned against the bars of the latest cage they had made it through, trying to keep a tight rein on her emotions. It was a strange feeling, knowing that how she felt could influence anything. If any one of them became too frustrated, it could stop them in their tracks. If they started to feel defeated, they could find themselves trapped.
Of course, after hours of effort and wandering, it was getting much harder to exercise control and focus. For starters, it was quite a while before Evan revealed that he was not looking for a way out, but was in fact looking for his uncle. His whispered words exchanged with the various "residence" of the cages seemed, at first, like he was attempting to piece together the way out; it wasn't until he started being unable to bend the bars any longer that Harriet realized it was something else.
She didn't have any problem bending the bars herself. She strolled up with confidence and bent the ones causing Evan to struggle, and she did so using only one hand. She would do so for a little while, cage to cage, until Evan seemed ready to do so again himself. After a while, he'd become frustrated again and Harriet would take his place. The cycled continued until Harriet was beginning to wonder whether it had been hours or days since they first started.
Still, Harriet didn't want to pressure him for information. It wasn't easy to fathom that there was over twenty years of life experience in her middle-school student, but it was starting to become believable. He was holding his composure and displaying strong leadership skills. Harriet even found herself worried about undermining him, especially in front of Vicky.
Who, in herself, was becoming a deeper and deeper enigma. She seemed to have a set to her jaw ever since they left. No, before that even. Since she woke up, something seemed to be off about the girl. She still seemed to have her signature sarcastic wit, but it wasn't the same. It was almost like she wasn't enjoying it anymore, that it was a reflex instead of a defense mechanism. Was she hiding something? What
Evan stood up from his dark corner and the stranger in the adjacent cage. "There's no sign of him. This isn't making sense anymore."
Evan's skin started to take a dark tone. It almost looked like leprous. Actually, scratch that, it was turning leprous. Harriet stood up, but it was Vicky who moved in front of him first.
"You're in a place where your thoughts and emotions turn into reality, and you expect things to make sense?" she snapped at him. "Evan, think about it. You've been gone almost a year from here, right? That's over fifteen hundred years here. Anything could have happened.
"You want to find your uncle? Then we need to get to bar. If we can find him anywhere, that's going to be the best place to start."
"You don't understand," he said, shaking his head. "I left him here! It's my fault he was stuck here for a millennia!"
"No, it wasn't. He could have followed you. He didn't. He made his choice. Now make yours. Stop trying to figure out if the hopeless know him, and let's go where we can do something about it!"
Evan sat down on his haunches. "And what then? The goblins will be there. How can we--"
He was interrupted as he was suddenly lifted into the air. Vicky had grabbed him by his shirt and had hefted him off the ground. "You are not allowed to give up. We are going to make it. Which way is it?"
Evan was shocked. His skin stopped flaking, but was now ghost white. Without looking away from her, he pointed off into the dark distance. His eyes continued to stay wide, but he managed to regain color as she turned her attention away.
Vicky lifted up a hand, pointing her palm out towards the distances. There was a humming sound, the kind that's normally felt rather than heard, almost like there was a change in air pressure. Vicky bared her teeth, let out an growl of effort, and suddenly something passed by Harriet, moving so fast it almost knocked her from her feet.
All of the bars in the direction the girl had pointed had bent away, as if a giant heavy ball had simply bowled through them.
Evan and Harriet could only stare, glancing back and forth from the holes to the tiny girl in front of them. "Vicky..." she began, when she realized what was going on. She needed to get to the Precipitous Bar. Something Evan had said had gotten to her, giving her energy that Harriet found frightening. Hope can make you powerful. What could be so important?
"Don't worry," Vicky said, interrupting Harriet's train of thought as she started striding through the cages, half-dragging Evan. "I'll handle the goblins."
Harriet leaned against the bars of the latest cage they had made it through, trying to keep a tight rein on her emotions. It was a strange feeling, knowing that how she felt could influence anything. If any one of them became too frustrated, it could stop them in their tracks. If they started to feel defeated, they could find themselves trapped.
Of course, after hours of effort and wandering, it was getting much harder to exercise control and focus. For starters, it was quite a while before Evan revealed that he was not looking for a way out, but was in fact looking for his uncle. His whispered words exchanged with the various "residence" of the cages seemed, at first, like he was attempting to piece together the way out; it wasn't until he started being unable to bend the bars any longer that Harriet realized it was something else.
She didn't have any problem bending the bars herself. She strolled up with confidence and bent the ones causing Evan to struggle, and she did so using only one hand. She would do so for a little while, cage to cage, until Evan seemed ready to do so again himself. After a while, he'd become frustrated again and Harriet would take his place. The cycled continued until Harriet was beginning to wonder whether it had been hours or days since they first started.
Still, Harriet didn't want to pressure him for information. It wasn't easy to fathom that there was over twenty years of life experience in her middle-school student, but it was starting to become believable. He was holding his composure and displaying strong leadership skills. Harriet even found herself worried about undermining him, especially in front of Vicky.
Who, in herself, was becoming a deeper and deeper enigma. She seemed to have a set to her jaw ever since they left. No, before that even. Since she woke up, something seemed to be off about the girl. She still seemed to have her signature sarcastic wit, but it wasn't the same. It was almost like she wasn't enjoying it anymore, that it was a reflex instead of a defense mechanism. Was she hiding something? What
Evan stood up from his dark corner and the stranger in the adjacent cage. "There's no sign of him. This isn't making sense anymore."
Evan's skin started to take a dark tone. It almost looked like leprous. Actually, scratch that, it was turning leprous. Harriet stood up, but it was Vicky who moved in front of him first.
"You're in a place where your thoughts and emotions turn into reality, and you expect things to make sense?" she snapped at him. "Evan, think about it. You've been gone almost a year from here, right? That's over fifteen hundred years here. Anything could have happened.
"You want to find your uncle? Then we need to get to bar. If we can find him anywhere, that's going to be the best place to start."
"You don't understand," he said, shaking his head. "I left him here! It's my fault he was stuck here for a millennia!"
"No, it wasn't. He could have followed you. He didn't. He made his choice. Now make yours. Stop trying to figure out if the hopeless know him, and let's go where we can do something about it!"
Evan sat down on his haunches. "And what then? The goblins will be there. How can we--"
He was interrupted as he was suddenly lifted into the air. Vicky had grabbed him by his shirt and had hefted him off the ground. "You are not allowed to give up. We are going to make it. Which way is it?"
Evan was shocked. His skin stopped flaking, but was now ghost white. Without looking away from her, he pointed off into the dark distance. His eyes continued to stay wide, but he managed to regain color as she turned her attention away.
Vicky lifted up a hand, pointing her palm out towards the distances. There was a humming sound, the kind that's normally felt rather than heard, almost like there was a change in air pressure. Vicky bared her teeth, let out an growl of effort, and suddenly something passed by Harriet, moving so fast it almost knocked her from her feet.
All of the bars in the direction the girl had pointed had bent away, as if a giant heavy ball had simply bowled through them.
Evan and Harriet could only stare, glancing back and forth from the holes to the tiny girl in front of them. "Vicky..." she began, when she realized what was going on. She needed to get to the Precipitous Bar. Something Evan had said had gotten to her, giving her energy that Harriet found frightening. Hope can make you powerful. What could be so important?
"Don't worry," Vicky said, interrupting Harriet's train of thought as she started striding through the cages, half-dragging Evan. "I'll handle the goblins."
The Nations of Radix: Aracanoc
Now, maybe this is just the super-geek in me, since I love magic and all that stuff, but I loved creating Aracanoc and all its weird inhabitants. To be honest, I got so excited when I was working on it, I suffered from two huge issues: too many ideas to use for one nation, and not nearly enough ability to focus on full development. So, in the end, it took me the most time, and although I think it may be a bit unbalanced as far as "what's available to be done" there, I was still happy with the results.
Now, when I first created the three countries, I wanted to get a certain feeling of precarious balance. One nation had the water, one nation had the food, and one nation had the magic to keep them all connected. Without the others, any individual country wouldn't work on its own. Seems to make sense, right?
Until you really break it down. Food and water really don't balance versus magic. Seriously, what's stopping the magic users from just taking over the other three countries? I didn't really have to worry about the others; they couldn't really do anything to the other without the aid of Aracanoc, and they didn't really have the power to honestly take the magic country, but it didn't make a lot of sense in the other direction.
So I had to add in a conflict that would help the balance make more sense. Of course, it wasn't that hard to come up with something.
The idea was that each root provided a sort of "power source" as it interacts with the country it pierces. Aracanoc was unique, in that instead of just one root, it actually was the result of a landmass formed between two. This particular fact was what caused magic to naturally occur in the country, making it far easier for its residents to learn Elemental Magic and bending it to their own will.
The key point, though, is that magic naturally occurs. So it's not too far to believe that it shows up in natural form, or warps the forms of those nearby. There was my answer: Outside of a few monstrous humanoid races that had similar origins to the rest of the humanoids, Aracanoc was the "birthplace" of monsters. Sure, a few of them accidently found their way to other countries through the Nebula, whether through experimentation or force from their fellows, but for the most part they took up residence here.
Still, that wasn't everything. Should a bunch of wizards decide they actually need to live in a country naturally inhabited with an innumerable amount of monsters, it wouldn't make sense that they'd just constantly battle these creatures the whole time. Constant battle isn't exactly conducive to studying magic. What are a bunch of super-powered beings to do?
Create a big floating city, of course.
I wanted to make sure the city mirrored the magic it was intended to represent, so I had it supported by six pillars, each to represent a root or element of magic. Each pillar, which in truth was a wizard's tower used to support the city, was created as the "pinnacle" of the elemental mastery and was controlled by a singular wizard who claimed the most mastery over that particular element. Besides support the grand super-structure above, where people could study to their hearts content without fear of interruption from monsters, they all served an additional purpose: each, in their own way, kept the monsters from climbing to the city, but only through the active use of the "supervisor's" magic.
Since the most powerful wizards in the world were occupied constantly with defending their fair city at all times, they were unable to seriously mount any sort of offensive on the other countries. Of course, creating a huge disc blocking out the sun for all the creatures underneath caused them to mutate and become more problematic than they ever were, but that... Well, that's a story for another time.
Now, when I first created the three countries, I wanted to get a certain feeling of precarious balance. One nation had the water, one nation had the food, and one nation had the magic to keep them all connected. Without the others, any individual country wouldn't work on its own. Seems to make sense, right?
Until you really break it down. Food and water really don't balance versus magic. Seriously, what's stopping the magic users from just taking over the other three countries? I didn't really have to worry about the others; they couldn't really do anything to the other without the aid of Aracanoc, and they didn't really have the power to honestly take the magic country, but it didn't make a lot of sense in the other direction.
So I had to add in a conflict that would help the balance make more sense. Of course, it wasn't that hard to come up with something.
The idea was that each root provided a sort of "power source" as it interacts with the country it pierces. Aracanoc was unique, in that instead of just one root, it actually was the result of a landmass formed between two. This particular fact was what caused magic to naturally occur in the country, making it far easier for its residents to learn Elemental Magic and bending it to their own will.
The key point, though, is that magic naturally occurs. So it's not too far to believe that it shows up in natural form, or warps the forms of those nearby. There was my answer: Outside of a few monstrous humanoid races that had similar origins to the rest of the humanoids, Aracanoc was the "birthplace" of monsters. Sure, a few of them accidently found their way to other countries through the Nebula, whether through experimentation or force from their fellows, but for the most part they took up residence here.
Still, that wasn't everything. Should a bunch of wizards decide they actually need to live in a country naturally inhabited with an innumerable amount of monsters, it wouldn't make sense that they'd just constantly battle these creatures the whole time. Constant battle isn't exactly conducive to studying magic. What are a bunch of super-powered beings to do?
Create a big floating city, of course.
I wanted to make sure the city mirrored the magic it was intended to represent, so I had it supported by six pillars, each to represent a root or element of magic. Each pillar, which in truth was a wizard's tower used to support the city, was created as the "pinnacle" of the elemental mastery and was controlled by a singular wizard who claimed the most mastery over that particular element. Besides support the grand super-structure above, where people could study to their hearts content without fear of interruption from monsters, they all served an additional purpose: each, in their own way, kept the monsters from climbing to the city, but only through the active use of the "supervisor's" magic.
Since the most powerful wizards in the world were occupied constantly with defending their fair city at all times, they were unable to seriously mount any sort of offensive on the other countries. Of course, creating a huge disc blocking out the sun for all the creatures underneath caused them to mutate and become more problematic than they ever were, but that... Well, that's a story for another time.
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